Harry Potter and the Guardian Keeper
by Emma Jean Taylor
Summary: Harry Potter returns to his fifth year at Hogwarts to find everything disorganised, which makes it difficult for him to see that one of his friends hides a secret, one has hidden powers, one is in great danger, and one will say goodbye to him forever.
1. Chapter One Summer Surprise

Harry Potter and the Guardian Keeper

Chapter One - Summer Surprise

Harry Potter awoke early on the morning of July 29th looking forward to the day's events. This was quite unusual, for life at number four, Privet Drive, was not a joyous one for Harry. His parents were killed when he was just a baby by Lord Voldemort, an evil wizard that craved death and power. Oh, by the way, Harry is wizard who will attend his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this September. His summer had been very dreary, which had been preceded by disastrous and dark final days at Hogwarts, his haven over the past four years. It now loomed before him as something that should be dreaded; yet he was still excited when he discovered it was July 29th—two days before his birthday and the day the Weasleys would arrive to take him to the Burrow, their house, for the rest of the summer. Ron Weasley was the first friend Harry made at Hogwarts and is still the best friend he has. There is also Hermione Granger, a Muggle-born witch who was very smart and has helped Harry through many hazardous situations. He was eager to see her and everyone else at Hogwarts again.

As he was getting dressed he heard the TV in his aunt and uncle's room reporting several killings on the news. Only half listening, he heard the reporter say that there was no apparent cause of death, which piqued his attention. 

Buttoning his oversized shirt, he slowly crept into the hallway and towards the doorway to his aunt and uncle's room. He could barely hear the man say that 'nothing had been seen like this for fourteen years' due to the conversation his uncle was carrying out with his aunt, who was pulling rollers out of her hair.

"I'm to fetch Dudley from Gordon's around half past ten," Uncle Vernon announced as he was fastening his tie.

"Yvonne Pickering invited us to dinner tonight, so don't spend too much time at work. You spend so much time there during the week, darling, why can't you stay home on Saturday morning?"

Uncle Vernon grumbled and turned away. Harry knew that he himself was the answer to that question. He often worked overtime to keep away from Harry, Aunt Petunia stopped spying on her neighbours and started taking an active part in their lives, and even Dudley stayed at his old primary school friends' houses to keep away from his own.

As he peered through the crack in the door to see the news programme, he noticed it was over and accidentally hit the door, causing it to creak.

Aunt Petunia swivelled in her seat.

"What are you doing here? Out!" she demanded, advancing on him with her styling wand. Harry turned and ran into his bedroom, closing the door.

It was the first he'd heard in a month, but he wasn't surprised. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, told him that what would come would come, and that he would have to face it when it does.

But these weren't the only killings. One week after the end of term the Daily Prophet (the wizard newsletter that he'd taken a subscription to the day he'd arrived back at Privet Drive) reported that three boys had been killed by the Killing Curse. All were fresh out of Hogwarts and had been celebrating in a Muggle pub when they unfortunately caught up with Lord Voldemort himself, or so the article says. Harry had awoken that very night with a burning pain in his scar, which Headmaster Dumbledore said happened whenever Voldemort was feeling particularly murderous.

After a good half hour he ran downstairs for breakfast, which was waiting for him cold and alone at the end of the breakfast table. He hadn't eaten with his aunt, uncle, and cousin ever since he came back home for they feared that he might put something in their food that would cause their tongues to swell, like the Weasley twins had done to Dudley the year before. Harry would gladly do it, for he hated his relatives and was in need of amusement, but there was a wizarding law that prevented any underage witch or wizard from practicing magic during the holidays. 

As he ate his burnt toast, he heard a scream come from upstairs, and soon heard his Uncle Vernon yelling at the top of the lungs: 

"BOY! GET UP HERE THIS INSTANT!" 

Harry downed his glass of milk and took a final bite of his toast to see what had gone wrong this time. As he reached the landing of their bedroom, he saw that Aunt Petunia's hair had turned—yellow. 

"What happened?" Harry asked, trying his best not to laugh.

"You tell me," Uncle Vernon scowled. "You're the only one in the house who can do this. What about that law that says you can't do magic during the holidays?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry replied flatly. He was tired of being blamed for everything that went wrong in the house.

"Do you _honestly_ think that your aunt could've turned her own hair yellow?" 

Aunt Petunia gasped softly behind Uncle Vernon, and he turned to his wife, who had half of her butter coloured hair still in curlers. 

"No," She muttered in horror, "no."

"Y-y-y-y!" stuttered Uncle Vernon, pointing his finger at his wife.

"What?" Harry asked, confused by this exchange.

"Petunia," Vernon went back a step. "You—You can't be... one of _them?_"

"Absolutely not!" she shrieked, insulted that he would dare call her a witch. "And if you dare mention it again, I swear..."

"You can't be! You would've gotten one of those ruddy letters in the mail, you would've—" 

Aunt Petunia had turned her head away. "You, you didn't get one, did you, love?"

She didn't answer.

"DID YOU?" He bellowed.

"Yes," she finally hissed, after much hesitation. "But I wasn't going to go. Burned the letter I did, and told them that they'd made a mistake, that Petunia Evans was no witch. I haven't heard from them since, so they must've realised their mistake."

"You're JOKING!" Harry shouted, suddenly finding the power to speak. "You can't be a witch!"

"You're mother was one," she replied, sounding strangely defensive. "Don't think that I ever wanted to be one. I'm not a witch. I'm NOT."

Harry couldn't believe his ears—his horrid aunt was a witch.

"What are we going to do?" Vernon cried. "Thank goodness Dudley isn't here to see his mother like this."

"Don't talk as though I _ asked_ to be like this!" She shouted. 

"D-Dudley!" Vernon shouted. "Petunia, you don't think he could be like—like _him_?" he said with horror, pointing his thumb at Harry.

"No! There's nothing extraordinary about the boy, he's perfectly normal!"

Harry snorted.

Aunt Petunia turned on him. "If you tell _anyone_ at that bloody school of yours, I swear you'll be left on the street come summer holiday."

Harry took the threat lightly. The only reason he was still with the Dursleys is because Dumbledore had insisted on it. You couldn't say no to the Headmaster of Hogwarts and possibly greatest wizard of all time. He had been told, however, that it was for his safety.

"Swear that you won't tell anyone!" she demanded, her saffron hair bouncing in its rollers.

"I promise," he agreed, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

He wasn't going to tell Dumbledore, but he couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't tell Ron and Hermione. This was too big. He could hardly move for he was in such a state of shock.

Aunt Petunia was a witch.

Uncle Vernon had forced Harry into his bedroom, which he was accustomed to by now—he practically lived there all summer. He sat on his bed in shock. His aunt a witch... this changed everything. Then again, what _did_ it change? She didn't want to be a witch, and it wasn't like she'd be sitting under the sorting hat with the first years come September. Yet she somehow managed to do magic after all these years. There was a sudden tapping at his bedroom window that made him jump and the bedsprings squeaked beneath him. He turned to see a strange owl fluttering on the other side of the glass. Harry opened the window and allowed the bird in, which perched itself on his bedpost. It held a letter which he removed from its leg, pulled open and read:

D_ear Mr. Potter:_

_ A second violation of the Decree of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardry was reported in your residence at 7:31 AM. We hope that this was another mistake; otherwise you may be faced with a fine of 50 Galleons and expulsion from Hogwarts._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Mafalda Hopkirk_

His stomach was doing flip-flops. They thought that _he_ had done the magic? What was he going to do? He had to write back and tell them his aunt was the one who had done it. But how could they believe him? As far as the Ministry were concerned his aunt was a Muggle, and there was no proof whatsoever that he hadn't performed the magic. He didn't have much time to think about it when he heard loud honking coming from the street below. 

"Boy, get the door!" Uncle Vernon bellowed through the wall. He ran downstairs, though somewhat reluctantly. The Dursleys never let him answer the door—they didn't want anyone to know that he existed.

Luckily, a familiar face greeted him, other than that of one of the Dursleys' affluent friends.

"Harry!" 

It was Ron Weasley. 

"We came in a car this time! Dad didn't want to upset your aunt and uncle."

He was so happy to see Ron that he didn't notice the couple on the street staring at the car that seemed hold more people than humanly possible. 

"He says we should hurry—he doesn't want any Muggles to see an old car holding eight people."

Harry nodded and beckoned Ron up to his room where he helped him gather his things. He was handing Ron Hedwig's cage when he noticed the barn owl was still perched on his bedpost. 

"Hey, is that one of the Ministry's owls?" Ron asked, looking at the red ribbon around it's neck..

Harry shook his head with frustration, "I'll tell you when we leave, It's a long story." 

Ron nodded, and giving the bird a strange look, walked down the stairs carrying Hedwig.

He lifted the lid of his trunk and searched for his bag of wizard money. He quickly paid the owl and shut the window after it flew off. The only thing left to carry down was his trunk, and soon he heard footsteps approaching and was surprised to see Mr. Weasley and Fred. 

"Hello there, Harry," Mr. Weasley greeted. "Ron had a little trouble with your owl, but it's just a few claw marks, nothing to worry about. We've come to fetch your trunk."

"Thanks, it's all I've got left." 

He turned to Fred, who gave him a polite smile. Last year, after winning the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had received a thousand gold Galleons in prize money, but he gave it to Fred and George to help them with their Joke Shop… and various other things. The Weasleys were very poor, mostly because of the large size of their family. Mr. Weasley and Fred hefted the trunk out of his room and downstairs, and Harry watched as they descended. Sighing he turned to his aunt an uncle's bedroom door. 

"I just thought that I'd tell you that I'm leaving, and with any luck you probably won't see me again," he said through the door. Receiving no response, he shrugged and ran down the stairs, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Once the boot (which was magically made to have more room by Mr. Weasley) was filled with Harry's school things, they hopped in and set off. 

Ron, Harry, Fred, and George sat in the back while Ginny sat up front with Percy and her parents. They talked about their plans for the rest of the summer and the new events happening at Hogwarts.

"This year they're having a Valentine's Ball, because everyone's parents sent owls complaining about not having their kids home for Christmas," Fred informed.

"And the Quidditch Tournament is back up..."

George trailed off a bit and everyone shifted nervously in their seats, thinking about the final days of the Triwizard Tournament, which had replaced Quidditch last year.

"Since you're going to be with us on your birthday this year, Harry," Mrs. Weasley smiled, changing the subject, "we thought we might take you to Haywick Park."

"Haywick Park?" Harry repeated. "Is that a kind of amusement park?"

"Yes, Harry, but it's a _ wizarding_ amusement park," Fred corrected excitedly.

"I've always been fascinated by Muggle amusement parks," said Mr. Weasley fondly from the wheel. "How they managed to make you fly around without magic… it's beyond me!"

Mr. Weasley is obsessed with Muggles, and is said to have a collection of electric plugs.

"Haywick Park is located just outside of Plymouth," Percy informed randomly, laying his head on the window.

"All you OK, dear?" asked his mother beside him.

"Just a little headache," he replied.

Harry turned to Ron. "What's Haywick Park like?"

"I haven't been there since I was little, but I remember there were loads of sweets, and that there was this one ride I wasn't old enough to go on, and there's even a haunted house."

"A haunted house? Like, a _real_ one?"

"Yeah, but the ghosts are all under contract," said George, rolling his eyes. "And half of them just wave their arms and go 'Boo!'"

"The Fat Friar is scarier than those ninnies," said Fred disappointedly. The Fat Friar was the House Ghost of Hufflepuff, and he couldn't scare a pair of pink bunny slippers.

"Well, the Monstrous Maze is supposed to be fun, but you have to prove that you know the Stunning Spell to get in," Ron said with enthusiasm.

"I'd hate to have that job," said George.

"Yeah, I'm surprised the poor bloke is still alive," Fred added.

"We could have Percy's job, now that would be a blast!" George joked, slapping Percy's shoulder.

"Did Ron tell you, Harry? Percy's getting _married_!" Fred announced cynically.

"Yeah, congratulations, Percy," Harry said, and Percy smiled back.

"We always knew that someday someone would like you, Perce," Fred confessed.

"Yeah, but we never thought a girl would!" George joked.

"Boys, leave your brother alone!" Mrs. Weasley ordered as everyone but Percy and herself laughed. "By the way," she said to Harry, "we invited your friend Hermione to meet us at Haywick Park."

Harry couldn't wait to see Hermione again, and grinned at the thought or her enjoying something other than homework.

"Well, here we are," Mr. Weasley announced as he turned onto a long driveway that led to the Burrow. It ended halfway to their house, which loomed above them with its many stories and small garden in front that contained a variety of strange plants and a couple of unruly garden gnomes.

The Weasleys helped Harry carry his trunk and other things into the house up to Ron's room, which was at the very top beneath the attic. Once they were all settled Mr Weasley headed for the door. 

"I have to take the car back to the Ministry; someone's bound to notice that it's missing." Off his wife's venomous look he quickly replied, "Just joking, just joking!" 

Mrs. Weasley made them all a bit of lunch which Harry found very good, and then he and Ron set off for Ron's bedroom, where they were finally alone and Harry could tell Ron of what had happened at Privet Drive.

"You're joking!" Ron cried, after Harry had finished his story. "Your aunt… a witch?"

"She even got a letter to Hogwarts when she was eleven, but said she burned it and told them to leave her alone."

"That's mental! But Harry, what are you going to do about that letter from the Ministry? I know, maybe dad can help."

"No, that'll get Aunt Petunia in trouble." 

Ron gave him an odd look.

"Not that I care about her or anything, but _think_ about it—my aunt _suddenly_ uses magic _ accidentally_ after all these years, and neither Hogwarts nor the Ministry did anything about it? It'll sound like I'm making it up."

"Yes, but Harry, not everybody wants to come to Hogwarts. People who think it's some kind of cult or want to live like Muggles have their names put down on a list so they won't go telling all the Muggles out there about the magical world."

"So, what will happen if I tell the Ministry that it was my aunt who performed the magic and not me?" The words sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

"I don't know. When Dad gets back, I think we should tell him."

"I guess so. I don't want someone else to get me in trouble for doing magic again." 

He was referring to the time when Dobby—a house elf—had caused Aunt Petunia's pudding bowl to crash to the floor, which had earned him his first warning from the Ministry and house arrest from his aunt and uncle.

Harry was tempted to tell Ron about the killings reported on the Muggle news, but decided that they had enough on their hands without having to worry about that.

Around one in the afternoon Ron's father returned and they decided it was best to approach him with the letter sooner rather than later.

Ron approached his father, who was sitting at the table, chatting with Mrs. Weasley. 

"Er, dad?" he said quietly.

"What is it, Ron?" 

"Could Harry and I talk to you in private?"

Mrs. Weasley cast a curious look in his direction as she organised her cookbooks.

"What about?" he asked, turning in his seat.

"It has to do with the Ministry," said Harry. 

"Follow me," said Mr. Weasley.

He took them into a room that must be his library, which Harry had never seen before.

"Alright boys, tell me what the problem is."

"Well, Harry got this letter."

Ron handed his father the letter from the Ministry, which he quickly read over.

"Harry, you do know you're not supposed to do magic over the holidays," said Mr. Weasley sternly.

"Yes sir, I do. But the problem is, _I_ didn't do the magic. My aunt did."

Mr. Weasley gave him a puzzled look. "But, your aunt's a Muggle," he said in an 'I-hate-to-break-it-to-you' tone.

"That's what I thought. But she told my uncle that she had received a letter from Hogwarts too, and that she'd destroyed it and ignored."

"Well, I'll be hexed! Your aunt—a witch! Though, not really—she's taken the oath not to do magic and has done it in her own home... she'll be fined of course—"

"Fined?" Harry stepped forward, "No, no; she'll be _very_ angry!"

"Well, you won't have to worry about that, now will you? It'll be a whole year until you have to see her again if Dumbledore insists you even stay with her at all after the next term ends."

That was true. Being fined isn't such a bad thing, and he probably wasn't ever going to see her again, a thought which made Harry very happy. 

"I'll send an owl to the Ministry to straighten this all out."

Harry and Ron let out sighs of relief and then went upstairs to Ron's room.

Before dinner everyone was talking about their trip to Haywick Park. Mr. Weasley said that they were going to be staying with an old wizarding family they used to be friends with called the Whitbys.

"Remember Beverly, Ron? You two used to get along so well together!" Mrs. Weasley recalled fondly. From the sour look on Ron's face Harry could tell that he and Beverly hadn't gotten along well at all. 

"Yeah, Ronniekins—wasn't she your little _girlfriend_?" said George. 

For some reason this lit a fire in Ron and he jumped at George. They both tumbled to the floor, fists flying.

"Ronald! George! Off the floor! Honestly, we should've had all girls."

The words had no sooner left Mrs. Weasley's mouth when Ginny entered the room. Harry was rather shocked to see her. 

Ginny had grown up. She was almost as tall as Fred and George, and her hair was longer and braided. Harry smiled when he saw her.

"Hello, Ginny."

At that she instantly turned beet red and Harry realised that she hadn't changed much. She didn't, however, drop anything or step on anyone's foot in response and smiled back at him with less fear.

Fred had managed to separate Ron and George, the latter of whom was grinning mischievously, while the former was shooting a virulent stare in his brother's direction.

"Really boys, when will you ever stop teasing each other?" said Mrs. Weasley.

"I was just joking, Mum. I honestly didn't think it'd still bother him."

An earnest look was something you'd rarely see on George's face, even with the ever-present grin.

"Well, it doesn't," said Ron stubbornly, rubbing his shoulder.

"Oh, so you just felt like taking a punch at me for laughs?" said George.

Ron lunged at him again but Harry held him back.

"C'mon Ron, let's eat dinner."

Afterwards Harry and Ron went upstairs to pack for the trip to Haywick Park.

"We'll be up bright and early, so everyone get some sleep!" Mr. Weasley advised, giving strict glances to Fred and George.

"It'll be really weird to see the Whitby's again. After her dad got promoted, they moved to Plymouth and we haven't seen them since," Ron said as he was packing socks into his trunk. 

Harry suddenly realised something.

"Ron, I don't have enough money to pay for Haywick Park."

"Don't worry," said Ron, "It's Mum and Dad's birthday present for you."

He smiled in response, but felt as if a large stone had been implanted in his stomach. He hated when Ron's parents bought him anything when they were so poor and he had a vault full of gold at Gringotts, the wizard bank.


	2. Chapter Two Beverly Whitby

Chapter Two

Beverly Whitby

Harry and Ron woke early the next day and joined the rest of the Weasleys in taking their trunks to the living room. Harry had travelled by Floo Powder twice, but both times had made him feel queasy. 

After eating breakfast, everyone gathered around the fire. Mr. Weasley pulled out a small drawstring pouch, took a pinch of powder from it, and threw it into the flames, which turned emerald green instantly.

"Alright; Fred and George, off you go." 

Fred stepped into the flames then shouted "Elysian Fields!" This must be the name of the Whitbys' house. He was quickly followed by George.

"Right then. Molly, you take Ginny."

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley jumped into the flames, and soon vanished.

"Alright boys, you know the drill. I'll put out the fire and Percy and I will Apparate afterwards."

Harry and Ron exchanged confident looks. Harry then stepped into the fire, shouted 'Elysian Fields,' and was gone.

He was spinning very fast, elbows tucked in so they wouldn't bump against anything, rushing past a number of blurred fireplaces, when he came to a halt in a very nice kitchen. He stepped out of the fire and was soon greeted by a jolly looking couple.

"Is this the young Harry Potter?" Mrs. Whitby paused and smiled nervously, "What an honour to meet you, lad!" she cried, taking his hand and shaking it warmly. Mrs. Whitby was a middle-aged witch with greying blonde hair and a slim figure. An older wizard approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, reciting "An honour, a real honour." But soon, their attention wafted back to Ron and his siblings, who they hadn't seen in a while. "Oh, look at you, Ron! My, my! You've gotten so tall! And not a freckle out of place, you dear!" 

There was a loud 'pop' as Mr. Weasley and Percy Apparated into the kitchen.

"Ferguson! Lorraine! It's been ages!" Mr. Weasley shook hands with Mr. Whitby as Percy's life was being squeezed out of him by Mrs. Whitby, who could "remember when he was in diapers."

Harry and Ron were caught in a web of hands shaking and arms hugging, which they soon found their way out of, and Ron immediately bumped into a tall blonde girl who must be the infamous Beverly.

"Hello, Percy," she said, "Have you seen Ron?"

"Are you barmy? I am Ron!"

Her eyes widened. "Heavens! You've gotten so tall! Quite handsome, too."

Harry noticed that Ron found his own blushing infuriating.

"And is this Harry? It's really nice to meet you," she said pleasantly. Harry smiled in return, but it faded quickly as Ron nudged him in the ribs. Beverly had a very doll-like face and an elegant posture, which made Harry find her more pleasing than monstrous, as Ron repeatedly told him that she was.

"Well, everyone," announced Mr. Whitby from behind them. "Let's off to our rooms to get settled."

Mr. Whitby assigned rooms to everyone as they walked down the grand and opulent hallway. "Ginny, you'll be staying with Bev." Ginny and Beverly smiled at one another. "Percy, your room is to the right." Percy slowly trudged into his room and closed the door, leaving Harry with a question or two. "Fred and George are off to the left..." the twins practically galloped into their room and shut the door, and almost instantly laughter was heard. 

"Right, then," said Mr. Whitby with a curious brow, "Arthur and Molly, you're there." Ron's parents began to pull their luggage into their rooms. 

"And here we are: Ron and Harry's room." 

Mr. Whitby unlocked the door and revealed a very large room with a four poster bed near the windows, a crackling fire in the large mantled fireplace, and on the table by the furthest window on the right were fresh cookies.

"Ah, Lorraine's recipe—she makes the best cookies!" he said, picking one up for himself. "I hope you don't mind?"

The boys shook their heads and smiled. Their room was quite comfortable, and they had a great view overlooking the rocky beach.

"Well, I'll let you boys get settled in. Dinner's at six." With that, Mr. Whitby closed the door and they had their room to themselves. 

The boys ate their cookies—which disappeared quickly, though not due to any magic other than that of two nearly fifteen-year-old boys' appetites—over a game of wizard's chess. After Ron beat him for the third time, Harry asked a few questions.

"What do I need to bring with me to Haywick Park?"

"Just spending money and your wand. Oh, and your broomstick. Fred says they have three Quidditch pitches you can play on." 

Harry lit up at the last sentence. He loved Quidditch, and was even the Gryffindor team Seeker at Hogwarts. "But Ron, how will we carry everything around?"

"Oh, Mum said that she'd bring Bottomless Bags to put our stuff in."

"Bottomless Bags? Like Marry Poppins' carpetbag?"

"Mary 'who'?" Ron replied in confusion.

"I forgot. You've probably never seen a movie before. I haven't seen that many either, but sometimes when the Dursley's were away I'd sneak into Dudley's room and watch a film or some TV."

"What language are you speaking?" said Ron, who didn't understand such Muggle inventions.

"Never mind."

"Checkmate," said Ron, whose bishop had just pummelled Harry's last remaining castle.

"So, how did the Whitbys become so rich?" asked Harry, admiring their room.

"Mr. Whitby was an Auror. Quite a good one, I believe, until he retired."

"Why did he retire?" 

"Well, after the legendary Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who—while still in diapers—all that was left was to round up were the remaining supporters," Ron said goofily, causing Harry to roll with laughter. "But really, Mr. Whitby caught a great deal of Death Eaters in his day."

"Then it's impossible not to feel safe here." Harry said with a smile.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room, which had a crackling fire in the centre with several armchairs circled around it, and bookcases lined against the walls. The boys were deep in a conversation about Quidditch strategies when Beverly suddenly seated herself beside Ron. 

"Ginny tells me you two have had your share of adventures at Hogwarts."

Ron leaned over in his seat and glared at Ginny. Harry felt that Ron was being childish and replied, "Yeah, you could say that."

"I can't wait to go to Hogwarts! I've been learning at home for the past four years, but my mum convinced Father that it'd be best if I took the O.W.L.s at Hogwarts. I talked him into letting me go for the rest of the term, but he was reluctant."

"Why?"

"Well, he used to be an Auror, and he's afraid of..."

Beverly stopped talking, with a look on her face that reminded Harry of Dobby before he started beating his head against something.

"What?" asked Ron curiously.

"No one, I mean, nothing... can we talk about something else?"

"You brought it up," Ron mumbled in frustration.

"I don't know much about Hogwarts, but Ginny told me about the Quidditch Tournament, and that it's played between the houses. What did she mean by the Houses?"

"Well, Ron and I are in Gryffindor House," said Harry.

"Which is the best!" Ron exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air with house spirit.

"And the other three are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."

"I've heard of Gryffindor and Slytherin, but Hufflepuff? That sounds more like a creamy pastry than a house."

"Well, the houses were named after the four founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin."

"So, what purpose do the houses serve?"

"Well, you have classes with your house, eat meals at the same table, support your Quidditch team, and earn points for the House Cup."

"The House Cup?"

"Hermione needs to lend her a copy of _Hogwarts, A History,_" Ron muttered to Harry.

"Well," he continued, glancing at Ron, "If you answer questions right or do some service to the school, you earn points for your house. If you break the rules, or put Snape in a foul mood—"

"—which he's always in—" Ron added.

"—then you'll lose points."

"You've never lost points, have you?"

Harry and Ron laughed. "We both lost our house 100 points in our first year. 150, if you include Hermione," said Harry.

"Hermione?" said Beverly, quirking her brow.

"Yeah, she's one of our best friends," Ron told her.

"And she lost points too?" Beverly asked.

"Oh, it was horrible, everyone kept glaring at us. I almost thought we were going to be expelled for causing a riot," said Harry.

"So, Ron, who's your favourite teacher?" Beverly asked, turning to him.

"I have no favourite teacher," he retorted, turning his head.

"Okay—Harry?"

Harry tilted his head to side and thought. Who _was_ his favourite teacher?

"Professor Lupin," he stated finally. 

"Lupin? What does he teach?"

"He _taught_ Defence Against the Dark Arts our third year. He was the best teacher we ever had," Ron answered.

"I've heard the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers don't last long."

"No, they don't. We've had a new one each year," Harry replied.

"The worst one was Lockhart," Ron gagged in disgust.

"Gilderoy Lockhart? He taught your class? I've always wanted to meet him! What's he like?"

"A pompous git who couldn't find his backside with two wands," Ron muttered.

"Why are you in such a foul mood?" she asked Ron, taking offence.

"Maybe it's because I refuse to buy this act of yours," he admitted, sitting upright in his chair.

"What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely baffled.

"You were always such a terror unless someone else was around! Come off it, what's your angle?"

"Ron!" Beverly laughed, "I was four years old! Do you honestly think that I'd be the same?"

Ron blushed slightly. "Well, you were always so mean."

"That's because I _liked_ you, not because I was mean!" Beverly was laughing very hard, and Ron's face was slowly matching the colour of his hair. Harry couldn't help but laugh with Beverly, which made Ron turn redder with anger.

"So," she began as her laughter subsided. "Who's your least favourite teacher, Harry?"

He didn't have to think hard about that one. "Professor Snape. He's the Potions teacher."

"_Severus_ Snape?" She asked, her face going white.

"Yeah, he's terrible," Ron groaned.

"Beverly? Are you okay?" Harry asked. Her face had gone very pale and her eyes glazed over.

"I'm sorry, will you please excuse me?" 

She quickly leapt from her chair and headed for the stairwell.

"Didn't I tell you? She's mental!"

Harry watched as Beverly quickly ascended the stairs and thought that her father had good reasons for never sending her to Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter Three Haywick Park

Chapter Three

Haywick Park

The following morning everyone awoke to find their breakfast in trays sitting on the chests at the end of their beds. Ron and Harry sat in bed, enjoying their waffles and eggs, and then got dressed and went downstairs. 

Waiting in the living room were Percy, Fred and George. Percy was reading one of the Whitby's books and the twins were playing with wizard crackers. They all looked up and wished Harry a happy birthday, then went back to what they were doing. 

On one of the panels on the wall that wasn't covered by bookcases was a picture of a girl Harry had not noticed the night before. The wind was whipping her very dark hair in front of her fair face and she laughed merrily as she tried to pull it away. 

"Ron, who's the girl in that picture?"

Ron squinted at girl's face. "I don't know, let's ask Percy. Oi, Percy!"

Percy looked up from his book, and Harry noted that he looked rather greyish and sickly.

"What?" he asked groggily.

"Who's that girl in the picture?" Ron pointed to the girl, who was now looking up at the cloudy sky in the picture.

"That's Madeline Whitby, Beverly's older sister," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Beverly has a sister?" Ron asked, somewhat offended that no one ever told him.

"She died shortly before you were born. She used to watch me, Bill, and Charlie when Mum and Dad were away. Very nice, from what I remember." He smiled sadly and returned to his book.

Harry looked at Ron, who looked more perplexed than usual. "How come no one ever told me about this?"

"No one likes to talk about it." Percy replied, looked somewhat annoyed that he was being disturbed but quite anxious to be the giver of information. "She was fifteen when she died, probably the youngest that they killed. It was front page in the _Daily Prophet_ and everything."

"The youngest that _who _killed?" Harry asked, feeling as equally perplexed as Ron.

"The Death Eaters. That's why Mr. Whitby became an Auror."

Harry looked up at the picture. Beverly's sister was killed by Death Eaters?

"Why did they kill her?" He asked with his eyes still on her portrait.

"No one ever told me." 

Percy looked behind them as Ginny, Beverly, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered the room.

"Has everyone eaten?" Mrs. Weasley asked, holding several small emerald green bags.

When everyone nodded she passed out the bags, telling them to put anything they win inside. Fred and George chuckled, casting frighteningly mischievous glances at Ron.

"Fred, George," Mrs. Weasley called sternly. "If you put your brother in a bag I swear you'll never hear the end of it!"

"Oh, don't worry Mum," Fred grinned.

"We were just thinking of the good old days," George added not-so-reassuringly.

Ron shuddered, glaring at his brothers. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"All right then, let's head out!" Mr. Weasley announced, motioning everyone out the door.

"Just a little longer," Mr. Weasley said for the fiftieth time once they'd reached the harbour. Harry could hear Fred and George panting behind him, and Ron was holding a stitch in his side. The hot sun had been bearing down on them the whole journey, and even Mr. Weasley seemed worn out by the walk.

"There, over to that little shack everyone!" He motioned to what looked like a fisherman's shack built into a pier on the beach. Once they reached it, Mr. Weasley knocked on a door, and two eyes greeted them from behind a peeping box. 

"Ticket please," came a raspy voice from behind the door.

Mr. Weasley slid their ticket through the slot and the man opened the door. They walked through the shack to the end where there was another door, which was opened to reveal a magnificent park that looked as though it was far from the beach.

Haywick Park looked like a large medieval village, with a large stone tower in the centre. There were four paths on all sides leading to the tower, each lined with shops, booths, tents and restaurants. Harry could see a body of water in the distance, which Mr. Weasley said was the Kelpie ride. To their right was a large carousel with live unicorns, and what looked like a large Billywig spinning into the air.

"Alright gang, let's meet at Haywick Tower at seven." Mr. Weasley announced as the group dispersed.

As the boys stood in wonder at what was before them, they heard a familiar voice calling from one of the shops. Hermione Granger came bounding towards them, bushy hair flying, with what appeared to be a book in her hands.

"Hey Harry, Hey Ron," she smiled, revealing her even teeth.

"How did you manage to bring a book to Haywick Park?" Ron asked teasingly.

"I didn't, I just bought it from one of the shops. It's about the Park and its history."

Harry shook his head and smiled, "So, what should we do first?"

Hermione handed them a folded map that had come with her book. "You two take a look, but I personally think the Underwater Voyage or the Giant Billywig would be fun."

The boys took the map and looked it over. There was a Ferris wheel, a Kelpie ride, and they also saw the Monstrous Maze and the Haunted House that Fred and George told them about. They decided to go on the Giant Billywig first.

As they approached the ride they could hear Hermione going on about it. 

"It's not _really_ a giant Billywig, it was Transfigured into one from a large tree that was cut down."

"Aren't Billywigs those bugs from Australia that make you giddy and float when they sting you?" Harry asked, thinking he must've read it somewhere in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. 

"Yes, they're also believed to be the key ingredient in Fizzing Whizzbees."

"See if I ever eat those again," Ron muttered, looking at the giant blue insect as they stood in line.

The Giant Billywig would twirl very fast and high in the air and then come back down again. Harry observed that when everyone got off they would giggle giddily and hover in the air.

"They charmed the ride to leave that side affect. It only lasts for about five minutes," Hermione informed. It reminded Harry of Cheering Charms.

When it came time for them to ride they had to turn over their bags and sit on the outer edge of the Billywig. Instead of being strapped in like at Muggle amusement parks they were magically bound to the Billywig so that they would be flung off. After the seats were filled they started spinning, and if there wasn't a giddy carefree feeling overwhelming him, Harry might've been frightened. They were at least two hundred feet in the air and were spinning so fast that if they tried to speak to their neighbour someone ten seats down would hear it. Soon the spinning slowed and the Billywig lowered, and everyone hovered off giggling endlessly.

"So, what do you want to do next?" Ron asked, still giggling.

"Well, I wanted to..." Hermione trailed off and looked in the distance at a girl who was running towards them. "Who's that?"

The boys both turned and saw Beverly as she approached them.

"Ron! Harry! Where'd you run off to?" Beverly was panting, then she turned to Hermione. "Oh, you must be Hermione Granger. I'm Beverly Whitby, a friend of Ron's family," she stuck out her hand, which Hermione shook politely. Harry noted a tad of frigidity in the exchange.

"So, where are you all planning to go next?" Beverly asked.

Hermione blushed a little. "Well, I thought that we might play Quidditch."

"You want to play Quidditch?" Ron said incredulously.

She frowned in response. "It looks like fun! Why shouldn't I play?"

"No reason," Harry replied, eager to play himself, "We need to gather everyone up, anyway."

After fetching Ginny and the twins they headed to the back of the park where the Quidditch pitches were located. Pitch three was free, so everyone rented playing robes and the girls rented broomsticks then set off to play.

Harry took his usual role as Seeker and Fred and George took theirs as Beaters, while Hermione, Beverly, and Ginny played as Chasers and Ron took the Keeper position.

The girls didn't score many points, but that wasn't due to their lack of skill. Ron was an excellent Keeper and all of the girls where exceptionally good at flying. And aside from when George 'jokingly' sent a bludger their way and the girls swivelled on their brooms so not to fall off, the game went fairly decently.

After the game Fred and George complimented the girls on their flying, which made Hermione blush. Though Hermione was at the top of their class at Hogwarts, she herself had to admit that it was mostly cleverness. But no amount of reading could aid in flying, which is mostly why she was never to keen on it. However, Quidditch seemed to have grown on her during the summer holiday.

Fred and George were beckoning them all to follow and soon they found themselves standing in front of the Monstrous Maze.

"Hermione," Harry asked. "What _is_ the Monstrous Maze?"

"It's a maze you have to complete, but some of the passages are blocked by monsters and such. But these have all been trained to take the Stunning Spell and not to attack."

Harry didn't listen to the last few words. The last task at the Triwizard Tournament had been exactly like this. He could close his eyes at night and still see Cedric falling to the ground dead.

"No thanks," Harry said suddenly.

"Sorry?" Fred seemed surprised, "This is supposed to be the best of them all!"

"I'll just sit it out, thank you." 

He looked to Ron and Hermione, who understood why he didn't want to go and sat out with him.

"You know, Harry," Ron started once they had seated themselves on a bench. "You really shouldn't blame yourself for what happened."

"I can't help it. I pushed Cedric into taking the cup when we got there, but then he said that we both should take it."

"But Harry, you weren't the one holding the wand when Cedric was murdered, were you?" Hermione added. 

He couldn't respond because a young girl with long brown hair had tapped him on the knee.

"Are you Harry Potter?" she asked, hiding something behind her back.

"Yeah," he answered with a tone making it sound like a question.

"I know you probably get this all the time, but can I have your signature?" she asked, handing him the quill and parchment she had been hiding behind her back.

He smiled awkwardly and signed it for her. She thanked him and then went off giggling with a bunch of her friends, who were all staring at him. She wasn't the only one, for Ron and Hermione were both sniggering beside him.

"That's really embarrassing," he admitted after the girl had gone.

"She looks like she'll be starting Hogwarts this year," Hermione noticed.

"Great, more of them," Harry moaned.

"Well, Mr. Potter, are you up to a bite to eat?" Ron asked jokingly.

"Sounds good," he said with a grin, rising.

The three of them headed to the Red Lion, one of the restaurants. 

"You know, Hermione," Harry said after drinking his Butterbeer, "We're going to be down three Chasers and two Beaters next year. Have you ever thought about going for the team?"

Hermione laughed, "Harry, there are those who study and those who play sports. I am one of those who study."

"We know that," Ron added jokingly, nudging her elbow.

"Seriously, Hermione—Katie Bell is one of the best Chasers at Hogwarts and she's at the top of her class."

"Really?" she asked in a somewhat hopeful tone.

"Yeah, and Ron's going for the team this year, aren't you Ron?"

"I am?" he asked, Butterbeer dripping on his jumper.

"You said whenever a position was open that you'd try out," Harry reminded him.

"Oh yeah, it's this year, isn't it?" said Ron, obviously nervous.

"Who will he have to trial for?" Hermione asked as the bartender refilled her Butterbeer.

"I don't know. I never had to try out, remember? Professor McGonagall just assigned me. It'll probably be either her or Madam Hooch."

"Oh, didn't you hear? Madam Hooch is retiring this year after Christmas," Hermione told them sadly.

"You're joking," said Ron, "I always liked Madam Hooch," he added, sipping his Butterbeer sorrowfully.

"Who's going to be the Flying teacher or Quidditch referee, then?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said, "but I think Oliver Wood's interested."

Harry grinned. Oliver Wood is the former Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and is rather zealous and fanatical about the game.

"Have you heard about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I asked Hagrid in an owl last week, but I can't remember her name..."

"_Her_? You mean we're having a witch this year?" Ron said dubiously.

"Yes, if only I could remember her name!" 

She looked as though she could kick herself for not knowing the name of a teacher she's never met.

"What does it start with?" Harry asked.

"I don't know... Ficus, Finn, Figg..."

"Figg? As in, Mrs. Figg?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Please tell me 'Mrs.' isn't her first name!" Ron said.

"No, I think it's Arabella, it was on the cover of her cat books," Harry said.

"Cat books?" Ron asked, but before Harry could answer Hermione gave a yelp.

"Arabella Figg! That's it! How did you know?"

"She used to live down the street from the Dursleys. She'd watch me when they went out and she always made me look at pictures of her cats."

"She's not a Muggle?" asked Ron doubtfully.

"No, I guess she must be a witch. I never knew."

"Well it's a regular epidemic: first your aunt, now this Figg character. You better watch out, or Dudley might get a late letter to Hogwarts," Ron joked.

"Don't even say that!" Harry begged, knocking on the wooden countertop.

"Your Aunt is a witch?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"I'll tell you all about it when we get back," Harry promised.

The doors opened to the restaurant and Fred, George, Ginny and Beverly entered.

"Mum and Dad are saying we only have an hour and a half left," Fred told Ron.

"You guys better get to it, I believe you've only ridden the Giant Billywig. There's much more out there!" George added, a far-off look in his eyes.

They finished their drinks and followed the group out. Harry rode the Kelpie ride, which you had to eat Gillyweed to go on, as well as the Underwater Voyage, which had you swimming through a warm lake filled with tropical Merpeople—who were much more attractive than those of Hogwarts' lake—and various tame water creatures. The only downturn of the evening was when Percy got sick on the Ferris Wheel ride. Ginny and Beverly offered to take him to the Hospital tents.

They arrived at the tower at seven, still waiting for Fred and George to come out of Jerome's Joke Shop.

Beverly walked up to Harry, handed him a wrapped package and said "Happy Birthday, Harry!" 

She smiled. "Go on, open it."

Harry was so shocked that she actually got him something that it took him a while to start opening the package. Stripping the paper away, he saw... a book. He looked up at her to make sure it wasn't Hermione who was handing him the gift.

"_Magical Phenomena_ by Marie Sinistrée," he read the title aloud. "Thanks, Beverly," he replied with a polite smile.

She smiled brightly. "My pleasure."

Hermione gave Beverly a sideways glance and then walked up to Harry, handing him a gift of her own, which felt like another book.

"Hope you like it," she smiled, giving Beverly another sideways glance. 

Harry pulled the paper away to reveal a hand crafted book that read _My Family Tree_. He looked up at Hermione in astonished excitement. 

"Hermione," he started, leafing through the pages filled with names, history, and pictures. "This is wonderful! Where did you get all this?"

"I found most of your mother's family using Muggle resources, but for your father's family I had to get help."

"Who'd you ask?" 

"I sent an owl to Dumbledore and..." she paused, trying to remember something, then went on, "Snuffles."

Harry smiled. Snuffles was their codename for Sirius Black, who was Harry's godfather. Sirius had to go in hiding because he escaped from Azkaban, a wizarding prison, where he was sentenced for the death of Peter Pettigrew, who was still alive and had framed him for his alleged murder.

He thanked Hermione, who gave him a friendly hug, and then the twins came bounding forward, a bag full of goodies in their arms.

"Got you a present, Harry," Fred announced proudly.

"But we'd better wait until we get back, don't want any questions asked," George raised an eyebrow in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were approaching from one of the restaurants.

"Is everyone ready to go?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry nodded with the group and smiled to himself. This was the best birthday he'd ever had.


	4. Chapter Four Meet the Grangers

Chapter Four

Meet the Grangers

They arrived back at Elysian Fields around eight, where Ron gave Harry his gift: a wizard's chess set that had a magical partner. It appeared to be an old chess set of his family's that his mother or father had helped him charm. 

"It's for playing alone if you ever have to go back to the Dursley's," Ron explained.

Hermione didn't look so good coming in, but insisted that it was just a headache and was fine for the rest of the evening. Mrs. Whitby brought them some of her cookies and milk and they sat around the living room fire until midnight talking about Quidditch and Haywick Park. They even leafed through Harry's family tree book and laughed at some of the funny names and were impressed by those they recognised. The amazing thing is that Hermione happened to find a moving picture of his mother's family.

"It's so strange," said Hermione, "Your mother must've had it taken, for she looks like she's in her teens."

The picture featured his mother, his sullen faced Aunt Petunia, and two people who must be Harry's grandparents. Aunt Petunia was sneering at the cameraman, while his mother and her parents were grinning broadly.

As they were going to their rooms to turn in, Fred and George emerged from their own room and followed Harry and Ron to theirs. As soon as the door closed, they handed Harry their gift.

"The Marauder's Map!" Harry said, gleefully taking the blank map. "How did you get it?"

"Well, Ron told us that Professor Moody, well, that _he_ had taken it, so before the Final Task we snuck in and got it back," George beamed proudly.

"Does it work when you're away from Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

Fred shook his head. "No, we've tried. Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs made sure that if it ever fell into enemy hands, that it wouldn't work, since they would most likely be outside of Hogwarts."

Harry thanked the twins, who yawned 'no problem' in unison as they left for bed.

"I'm looking forward to this year more than I thought I would," Ron confessed.

"Yeah," said Harry, "me too."

Harry woke up around two-thirty when he heard a high pitched scream. He scrambled out of bed and put on his glasses, and Ron followed him as he ran out the door, to find everyone coming out of their own rooms.

"What's happening?" asked Ron.

"Someone screamed," said Mr. Whitby, running to the girls' room.

"We got that much," Ron mumbled as they followed him.

When they reached the doorway to Beverly's room, they saw a nervous looking Ginny in the corner, wringing her hands anxiously. Beverly and Mrs. Whitby were trying their best to calm Hermione, who seemed to be having a nervous breakdown.

"What happened?" Harry asked Ginny.

"She was muttering in her sleep about someone coming after her and then she just screamed," she looked over at Hermione with concern.

"Alright, boys, off to bed," said Mrs. Whitby, who had succeeded in calming Hermione to a slight shiver. "A little Sleeping Potion ought to remedy her."

The boys cast worried glances at Hermione, whom they had never seen so shaken, and then headed back to bed. Harry could identify with having nightmares, and hoped that hers didn't come true as his had.

The next day after breakfast, Harry and Ron asked Hermione about what happened.

"Oh, that was really embarrassing," she said, justifying the statement with a blush. "It was dreadfully horrifying, though. It was like that dream you have where the walls are pressing in from all sides, except in my dream the walls were men with masked faces. Then all I could remember is that I fell and they started attacking me with their wands," she shuddered. "It was terrible."

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, not knowing how to respond or what to say. Luckily, they were interrupted by Ginny, who was calling them downstairs to look at some strange puffballs.

"What are these things?" Harry asked, as Ron and Hermione joined Ginny in playing with the puffballs, which seemed to be moving.

"They're called Puffskeins, I read about them in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. They're supposed to be popular pets," Hermione explained.

"Yeah, I had one once," Ron told them.

"What happened to it?" Harry asked, kneeling down and playing with one of the custard-coloured fur balls.

"Fred used it for bludger practise."

Everyone winced.

"They don't mind being thrown about, though. What did he do to it?" Beverly asked.

"It wasn't pretty, you don't want to know," Ginny told her.

"So, I see you all have discovered the Puffskeins!" Mr. Whitby said, coming into the room. "Yes, since my retirement I breed them as sort of a little hobby. They usually go for about six Galleons apiece, but I'm sure I could give you a little friendly discount if any of you would like one."

Ginny lit up. "Really? You mean, we could have one?"

"Certainly. Choose any one that you'd like—oh, except for Frenchy, there. He's my favourite."

Harry didn't need a pet, since he had Hedwig, and Hermione still had Crookshanks, who he had seen stalking around the twins' room this morning. Ginny, however, who'd never had her own pet, ran into the living room to ask her parents if she could have one. After telling Fred and George about staying away from Ginny's Puffskein, they bought a rather small one which Mr. Whitby informed them was male (though how he figured that out was anyone's guess). 

"What are you going to name him, Ginny?" Beverly asked, and Ginny was quickly cut off by Ron.

"Now hold on, I think it's only fair that I get to name him."

"Where do you get off?" Ginny asked in astonishment.

"Well, you named my owl, so it's only fair that I get to name your Puffskein."

After a little arguing, Ginny relented, but asked that he make it a cute name.

Ron stared at the little creature for quite some time, then christened him—

"Fergie."

"After the Duchess of York?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"The what?" asked Ron. "Fergie—you know, like Mr. Whitby's name, but cutesied up."

Everyone laughed, but Ginny seemed happy with the name. It was due to this that Ron only turned a rather tame shade of red.

The next day Mr. Whitby asked the Weasleys if they would keep Beverly for the rest of the summer. He said that he would like them to give her guidance for her new school year, but George said that Mr. Whitby had received an owl late last night and he sounded somewhat alarmed.

"Wait a minute," Ron started, "how do you know Mr. Whitby got an owl last night?"

"Well, Fred and I were up—"

"—Because George was hogging the covers," Fred interrupted.

"—and Fred kicked me off. Anyway, as our room is next door to Mr. and Mrs. Whitby's, we heard the owl come in—"

"—And Mrs. Whitby yelp—"

"I believe that was Mr. Whitby—and heard him talking to her about leaving for a few weeks and getting Beverly out of the house."

"Is that all you heard?" asked Harry, after they appeared to be finished.

"Well, the previous events were followed by a rather nasty pillow fight, as Fred was getting cranky—"

"—And George was getting feathered—"

"—So anything else they might've said was muffled by our pillows."

It was two weeks before fall term began and everyone was back at the Burrow, including Beverly. One weekend Percy had arrived home very sick, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had to take him to the clinic at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Before they left, however, they dropped the whole lot off at Diagon Alley where they were to meet the Grangers. Harry had never really met Hermione's parents, since they were both Muggles, but had seen them before at Diagon Alley. He looked forward to meeting them mainly since they were Muggles, and they wouldn't stare at his scar and look at him in awe. Only witches and wizards would know of his involvement in Voldemort's downfall.

They met the Grangers at Gringotts, where they were in line exchanging their money. Hermione said hello to them, and then did her best at re-introducing everyone. When she said Harry's name, they just smiled and acknowledged him as Hermione's friend from school. It was very relieving.

Mr. Granger was a tall, thin man, with brown hair and a big smile. Mrs. Granger was tall and thin as well, with blonde hair and large blue eyes.

Mrs. Granger took the rest of the group to start their shopping while Mr. Granger waited for Harry as one of the goblins took him to his vault to retrieve his money. When he returned, they both headed to Flourish and Blotts, where everyone else was waiting. 

"Hermione told me that you're on the 'quit it' team," Mr. Granger began, trying to start a friendly conversation. "Sounds fascinating."

"Yeah, I play Seeker for the house team," Harry confirmed, ignoring the fact that Mr. Granger said 'quit it' instead of Quidditch.

"I'm thinking about buying Hermione a broom for her birthday, and I was wondering if you could help me," he stated, looking around at the shops with interest. He had an eager gleam in his eye that reminded Harry of someone he knew.

"I think that's a great idea!" said Harry. "We need to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies, that's where they keep all the racing brooms."

Looking at the prices, Mr. Granger decided on a Cleansweep Seven. Harry thought Hermione should have a better broom, and talked him into buying a Nimbus 2000. They had it gift wrapped in a Bottomless Box the size of a small toaster so that it was easy to carry and she would be hard pressed to guess that a broom was inside.

They met the group at Flourish and Blotts, where everyone was already leaving, and Beverly handed him his books for next year.

"You can buy my Hogwarts robes," she said. "In order to pay me back."

At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Fred and George bought Ron and Ginny some new dress robes with the money Harry had given them last year, and Hermione and Beverly bought new robes for the Valentine's Ball as well.

Everyone headed to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where they ate some beef sandwiches that Mrs. Granger had made, and afterwards bought themselves ice cream cones.

"Has Hermione told you?" Mrs. Granger asked the entire group once they finished their ice cream cones. "She's been named prefect." 

She smiled and patted Hermione proudly on the shoulder, who seemed somewhat embarrassed.

"Prefect?" said George, lighting up. "So sad that we used all our prefect jokes on Percy!"

"Hermione the Prefect isn't as fun to say as Percy the Prefect," Fred continued.

"Why didn't you tell us, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I guess I forgot," she said, turning red.

"She got her letter two weeks after the term ended. Keeps her badge in her pocket so it won't get dirty, she does." 

Mrs. Granger laughed like most parents do when they are proud of their children. Hermione blushed even more furiously.

"Yes, you don't want a spot on that prefect badge," said Fred.

"Might look like more like 'perfect' than 'prefect,' which would be somewhat vain and assuming," George pointed out.

"Sounds like Percy must've been torn when he cleaned his badge, then," Fred responded, and they both laughed.

"Alright everyone, let's off to the Leaky Cauldron so we can brush our teeth," Mrs. Granger announced.

"Mum!" said Hermione in astonishment.

"They just ate all that ice cream, dear. You don't want them to get cavities, do you?"

Harry and Ron exchanged knowing grins. Both of Hermione's parents were Muggle dentists, who were very strict about dental care.

"Or can you just zap them away?" said Mr. Granger somewhat crossly, obviously not approving of using magic to fix your teeth, as Hermione had done with her large front teeth last year.

"No, I guess you can't," she replied, even though she probably knew three or four ways of making cavities disappear.

After everyone had a good brushing, flossing, and rinsing, they headed back to Apothecary to buy ingredients for Potions class. At the stationary store they bought all the quills, ink, and parchment they needed. Then the group left Diagon Alley headed for the Grangers' house, where they would spend the night and leave by Floo Powder the next morning.

When they arrived, Harry and Hermione were the only two not astonished by what they saw. Having both been raised by Muggles, they were accustomed to blenders, light switches, computers, and televisions as the others were not.

Hermione's house was a small yet roomy, since only she and her parents lived there. There was one guest room, but they didn't offer it to anyone because they were afraid they'd break a lamp accidentally or electrocute themselves.

Somehow Mrs. Granger managed to stop the twins from playing with the light switches in the bathroom, while Beverly and Ron were staring at the VCR, tapping the flap and giggling as it flapped open then closed. 

Beverly and the Weasleys watched in astonishment as Mrs. Granger made dinner, all of them nearly falling to the floor as the toast popped out of the toaster. After dinner Mr. Granger set down four sleeping bags in the living room for the boys, and two extra in Hermione's room for Beverly and Ginny. The boys fought over who would get the blue sleeping bag, because the other three were obviously old ones of Hermione's with Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite on them. Ron tackled Harry, who had successfully grabbed the blue one, and snatched it from his grasp. He cried out victoriously, then he was attacked by Fred and George. Harry gave up and accepted the Rainbow Brite sleeping bag. 

After everyone had changed into their pyjamas they gathered in the living room to watch The Wizard of Oz on the television.

Everyone laughed at the Muggle interpretation of magic, and Hermione seemed torn, having watched it before she found out she was a witch and had then found it entertaining. 

After enjoying the delights of the Muggle world, everyone headed for bed. Harry couldn't help but laugh at Ron's face after he turned the lights off routinely.

"It's so weird that you're familiar with Muggle things. I sometimes forget that you grew up around eckeltricity and fellytones," he confessed. 

Harry had the urge to correct him, but instead laughed it off and said goodnight.

At breakfast the next morning Mrs. Granger made everyone waffles and bacon. Ron stared at the waffle iron for a moment then went back to his waffles, shaking his head and muttering 'Muggles.'

Around ten o'clock, when everyone was packed and ready to go, Errol, the Weasleys' family owl arrived with a letter for Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Well," sighed Mr. Granger, after he and his wife finishing the letter. "It looks like you guys are staying with us until Wednesday morning." 

Hermione practically dropped Ginny's trunk on her toe.

"W-what? What's wrong?" 

Harry got the feeling that she didn't want them to interrupt her before-school studying.

"It says here that their brother Percy has some illness, and that he needs to be alone for the next few days."

"Is he okay?" asked Ginny nervously. She'd always been more sympathetic towards Percy than her brothers.

"Your mother says that he's fine; he just needs rest," Mrs. Granger smiled. "Would you mind writing back to your mother and saying that it's alright for you all to stay until Wednesday? I don't particularly care for these creatures," she said, backing away from the chair which Errol was perched on.

Ginny helped Mrs. Granger send a letter back to her mother while Mr. Granger helped everyone put their things back.

"Honey, since they're going to stay longer than planned, don't you think we should lend the guest room to the boys? I'll remove your mother's lamp."

Mrs. Granger eyed her husband then agreed, "All right, but I'm putting in the plastic plugs so they won't electrocute themselves."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Mum, they aren't _that_ stupid."

Harry looked over at Fred and George, who often blew things up without the help of electricity.

"Hermione, I think it would be best if she did."

The next day at breakfast, Mrs. Granger entered the kitchen after collecting the mail from the letter box. 

"Hermione, here's another letter from Viktor. Such a nice boy."

Hermione's eyes bulged and she dropped her spoon. She leapt from the table and snatched the letter from her alarmed mother's hand.

"Er, thanks Mum," she said hurriedly, running upstairs.

"_Viktor?_" Ron said incredulously, dropping his bacon.

"Krum? Writing her through Muggle post?" Harry pondered aloud.

"You heard Hermione's mum, she doesn't like owls that much," said Ginny, who had obviously been listening.

"Butt out, Ginny."

She stuck her tongue out at Ron and then continued eating.

They had all finished their breakfast when Hermione arrived back in the kitchen, blushing furiously.

"Hermione, did Vicky write you a love letter?" Ron said tauntingly.

She glared at him.

"So, everyone, since it's Saturday, would you all like to go do something?" asked Mrs. Granger

Fred turned to her.

"Like what?"

"Well," said Mr. Granger, "What do you all usually do for fun?"

"Play Quidditch."

"Make things explode."

"Over and over and over again—"

"Play Exploding Snap."

"Eat sweets."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger stared blankly back at them.

"Well—I recognised the last one. Say, why don't we go bowling? We could make a day out of it, what do you say?" Mr. Granger asked, looking from face to face.

"What's bowling?" Beverly asked.

"_Bowling, _Dad?" Hermione moaned.

"Do we get to hit anything?" asked Fred and George in unison.

"Well, not directly."

"Yeah!" cried Fred, bowling another strike. He and George were winning by about thirty points, and Mr. Granger looked harassed.

"Well, you boys are pretty good," he admitted with a twitch, lifting his bowling ball.

Ron didn't seem to be having the best time. He still hadn't hit any pins, mainly because he thought that was the object of the game at first, and was now quite embarrassed.

"Is there anything else to do here?" he asked Hermione. "I mean, knocking pins over with a ball doesn't exactly tickle my fancy."

"They don't seem to mind," Beverly pointed out, and Harry looked over to see Fred and George jumping with glee as Mr. Granger failed to beat them at yet another game.

"Well, I think we're leaving," Harry said comfortingly to Ron, as Mr. Granger and the twins starting taking off their bowling shoes. Fred and George were trying to buy them from the manager—they wanted a souvenir from the Muggle world. Eventually they talked him into it, and he shook his head as he watched the group leave the alley.

One thing you'd expect in Hermione's house would be books—lots and lots of books—and there were. There were bookcases by the television, bookcases hidden in a closet, books stowed in the bathroom linen closet and yes, even books in the kitchen pantry. Harry saw Mrs. Granger consulting one to find a recipe for seasoned chicken, and she handed Hermione her third year spell book, which she had been looking for.

Soon the day came when Harry and everyone would have to leave the Granger home and return to the Burrow. They packed their things and waited in the living room, when they heard a knock on the door, and then the doorbell started ringing over and over again. Mr. Granger opened the door to find Mr. Weasley playing with the button.

"See Molly? Muggles use this button to trigger a bell, which rings throughout the house so that it can be heard. Oh, hello there Phillip," he said, addressing Mr. Granger.

"Hello Arthur. I trust your son is doing better?"

"Well, he will be once he's carried it out."

Mr. Weasley greeted everyone and headed to the fireplace.

"Has Hermione told you about Floo Powder, Phillip?"

"Yes, she has. I've already lit the fire for you."

"Good, wouldn't want to give you a shock," he replied with relief, most likely thinking back to the looks of horror on the Dursley's faces when he burst forth from their chimney.

"Mrs. Granger—" Mrs. Weasley began, as her husband administered the powder to the fire.

"You call me Diana," she told her warmly.

"Diana, thank you so much for taking care of the children. I hope the boys weren't too much trouble?" she asked, eyeing Fred and George, who were hugging Mr. Granger goodbye.

"Aside from the part where they tried to... in the bathroom..." she kept cutting off at the horrified look on Mrs. Weasley's face. "Er, they were all angels. Especially little Ginny," she added fondly, and Ginny chose that moment to hug her goodbye.

"So long, Mr. G.," the twins said in unison, slapping Mr. Granger on the shoulder.

"Mr. G?" Mr. Weasley repeated with amusement, though no one heard him.

"Goodbye boys. Good luck on the 'squid itch' tournament this year!" he shouted as they jumped into the fire.

"Bye Harry; bye Ron," Hermione called as they headed toward the fireplace. Then, quite reluctantly, she said "Bye Beverly."

"Bye, Hermione," she replied automatically.

And with that, the rest of the group leapt into the flames, one by one, after shouting, "The Burrow!"


End file.
